


Singing and Silence

by billhighthescienceguy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: College AU, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Tumblr Prompt, blind!cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-15
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 11:09:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2619584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billhighthescienceguy/pseuds/billhighthescienceguy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's feeling pretty bummed out about his college life- his grades suck, he just broke up with his girlfriend of over a year... But one night, he hears music echoing through the hallway. Who the hell knows how to play Metallica on the piano?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Singing and Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Yay I finally finished another tumblr prompt! I love this one, and I worked hard on it, so I hope you like it, too. Send your prompt to whatwouldjohnbarrowmando.tumblr.com and I'll do my best! :D
> 
> tiny disclaimer: I have no idea how accurate the information on braille is. What I wrote is genuinely what I understood from googling it, but I don't know for sure how braille works or how to read it, so... Don't take that bit too literally.

Dean stomped into his dorm and threw his backpack on his desk chair with such violence, his framed Metallica poster slipped off one of its nails, so it just hung by a corner. He didn't care, he just walked to his bed, spun around, and plopped down on his bed to stare at the ceiling. He'd just gotten a D on his Ancient Greek essay. He was rubbish at Ancient Greek. He was better at Latin but he had already fulfilled his Latin requirements, so he had to take Greek to have enough credits to graduate. He hated it.

He turned over onto his side and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands, then checked his watch. It was almost midnight, he'd been in the library trying to cram for his Anthropology exam the next day, but when his Greek professor posted the grades for the essay online, he's gotten fed up and decided to turn in early. Almost midnight is early for a college student.

Dean laid on his bed, fully clothed, and closed his eyes. His roommate, Benny, was still out and knowing him, he wouldn't be back until the early hours of the morning, so Dean took the opportunity to just chill in silence for a few hours. He steadied his breathing in an attempt to calm himself down and hopefully dissipate his frustration at himself, but he found it difficult. Eventually, however, his mind wandered to other things. He began wondering how his brother Sam was doing in his sophomore year of high school, and about how his dad was doing at work. His dad was a detective, which Dean always thought was pretty cool. 

Just then, he heard music echoing down the hall. It was the sound of a beautifully tuned piano, each note delicately dancing through the air and into Dean's ears. He sat up on his bed and tried to listen closer. The tune sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. He stood up and crossed to the door and pressed his ear against it. The music was muffled and distant, but it was one of the most beautiful sounds Dean had ever heard. He pulled the door open slowly, careful to not let it squeak and upset the flow of the music, and stepped out into the hallway. 

The tune grew louder and more intense as he made his way past the other dorm rooms toward the sound. He didn't normally like piano, or any kind of classical music, but this tune was so familiar, he was determined to find out what it was.

Then he heard singing. A low, grumbly, slightly off-key singing coming from the same direction as the piano music. He stopped in his tracks and listened carefully trying to hear the words that were flying along with the music.

_"Say your prayers, little one, don't forget, my son, to include everyone. I tuck you in, walk within, keep you free from sin 'til the sandman, he comes..."_

The name of the song finally flying into his brain, Dean continued down the hallway, now determined to find out how someone managed to play Metallica on the piano.

He stopped outside door 23 and raised his fist to knock. He just held it in the air for a moment, not wanting to interrupt the song, then lowered it, deciding to wait until the person inside had finished singing.

_"Something's wrong, shut the light, heavy thoughts tonight, and they aren't of Snow White. Dreams of war, dreams of liars, dreams of dragons' fire..."_

Dean leaned against the door of the room lightly and listened to the voice and the ringing piano. He decided now that the voice was coming from a boy rather than a girl, as it was low and scratchy, and very much one belonging to a bass singer. He began humming the tune along with the piano, when he realized that every note was perfect. There wasn't a single off-key note coming from the piano, which was incredible. Dean had been trying to teach himself Metallica songs on the guitar for years, but he'd never had much luck. He was in complete awe of this boy's abilities, and at last, when the song ended with one, long-ringing chord, he raised his fist again, and knocked.

"Come in!" A voice called from inside. Hesitantly, Dean grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open to finally see who had been playing those beautiful notes.

"Who are you?" The boy said as Dean entered the room. Dean gave the room a once-over, then looked at the boy who was sitting on a wooden stool in front of a piano. His back was to the door, and Dean thought it a bit rude to not at least look over at the door when someone entered. The boy had thick black hair, and was wearing a navy blue t-shirt with black pants. A beige trench coat hung over the edge of the desk chair in the corner, and next to the desk sat a white walking stick with a red nub on the end.

Wait, a walking stick? 

"Uh..." Dean began, suddenly realizing that this boy wasn't being rude by not looking at Dean- he couldn't see him if he wanted to. As if on cue, the boy swiveled around on his stool to face Dean, and Dean's suspicions were confirmed by a pair of completely black sunglasses: he was blind.

"Hello?" The boy said, and Dean realized he could easily run away again and the boy would never be the wiser, but he thought it best to be kind and speak to him. 

"Uh... Hi," Dean said awkwardly, still standing in the doorway. "I'm Dean. I, uh... I heard you playing, and I wanted to come and... I-well, you're... You're very good."

"Thank you, Dean," the boy said, smiling. Dean felt uncomfortable.

"Uh... You're welcome."

The boy stood up from his stool, took three steps forward towards the door, and stuck out his right hand. "I'm Castiel."

Dean shook Castiel's hand and gazed at him in awe. It suddenly occurred to him that this boy had not only been playing exquisite heavy metal on the piano, he had been doing it without the benefit of his eyes. If that wasn't impressive, he didn't know what was.

"Are you a fan of Metallica, Dean?" Castiel asked, gesturing to the desk chair in the corner for Dean to sit down. Dean closed the door to the dorm room and stepped over to Castiel's desk chair and sat down as Castiel made his was back over to the piano stool.

"Uh... Yeah, I am, actually. I was pretty impressed at how you managed to play it on the piano."

Castiel smiled again. "That has taken me a very long time, as I'm sure you could guess-" he waved his hand up at his sunglasses and Dean felt uncomfortable again. He didn't know if he should laugh or not, so he just breathed a little extra air out of his nose.

"Yeah, well, you're... You're really good."

"Thank you."

They sat in an awkward silence for a few moments before Castiel spoke again.

"Are you a fan of Led Zepplin?"

Relieved that he hadn't been the one to break the silence, Dean relaxed in the chair slightly. "Yeah, I am. Do you play that, too?"

Castiel smiled a third time, then spun around in his stool to face the piano. He cracked his knuckles, then felt around for the keys on the piano. Once he had his fingers placed, he began to play one of Dean's favorite songs.

"Ramble On," Dean said after Castiel had only played the first few chords. He knew that song to the last note.

"Good," Castiel said, nodding. He stopped playing, thought for a moment, then readjusted his fingers and began playing another song.

"Back in Black, AC/DC," Dean recited immediately. 

"Agh, I knew that one would be too easy, okay, hang on..." He moved his fingers again and played some more. Dean let him play for a bit longer this time, if only so he could hear the song being played so beautifully, even though he knew the answer instantly. Dean was good at music.

"Heat of the Moment, Asia," he said finally and Castiel sighed dramatically.

"You're too good at this, I'll have to learn some more obscure songs." Dean smiled at that, though he knew Castiel couldn't see him.

They continued playing their little song game until it was almost two in the morning and Castiel's roommate, Balthazar, stumbled in. He was slightly drunk and had lipstick all over his face around his mouth, and he, as Dean so eloquently put it in his mind, stunk like sex.

"Beautiful music there, Cas, truly beautiful, but I'm going to have to request that you are your man friend either vacate the vicinity or sit in silence whilst I sleep," he slurred in an English accent, kicking his shoes off and flopping face-first onto his bed. 

Dean stood up and walked over to the door, kicking Balthazar's shoes into a corner so Castiel wouldn't trip over them, then turned around to see Castiel removing his sunglasses and rubbing his eyes. He blinked a few times and Dean saw that his eyes were a magnificent shade of pale blue. It was a shame, really. Such beautiful eyes hidden behind a handicap. He smiled a little, then bade Castiel good night and headed back to his own room.

Benny still wasn't back yet when Dean returned, so he laid down on his bed, pulled his laptop onto his lap, and opened his music player to listen to his old music, in the hopes that he would see Castiel again soon, and that they would continue their game.

-

Over the next few days, Dean seemed to see Castiel everywhere, and it made him wonder why he'd never spoken to him before that one night. He saw him walking down the dirt paths between lecture halls, hitting his walking stick around the ground, his arm linked with Balthazar's, or a girl with dark red hair, who Dean thinks is named Anna. He saw him in the dining hall nibbling on a piece of baguette and dipping it in a bowl of soup while his friends around him tried to make him laugh. He saw him leaving lecture halls and walking into professors' offices and in and out of bathrooms and in the common lounge area. It was amazing to Dean that he'd never seen this boy before.

On the Tuesday after the night of music in Castiel's dorm, Dean spotted him sitting on a blanket under a tree, reading a book with his fingers, moving them across the braille, his lips moving along with the words. Dean smiled fondly. He couldn't help but notice how incredibly clever Castiel was. He knew he could never learn to read with his hands, much less learn how to play heavy metal on the piano without looking at the keys.

"Hey, Castiel," Dean said, walking over to the blanket and sitting down on the other end.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel smiled, continuing moving his fingers across the page. "I was wondering when I'd meet you again."

Dean let out a small chuckle, then stared at Castiel's hands as the continued through the book.

"How do you do that? Read braille?" He asked, before realizing that might have been a rude question. 

Thankfully, Castiel laughed. "I've been doing it my whole life. I was born blind. I'm sure if I were suddenly given the ability to see I would be asking how you could possible read jumbles of letters with your eyes."

"Right... Sorry, shouldn't have asked."

"It's okay," Castiel replied happily. "I don't mind it, really. It's rather difficult to miss what you've never had."

They sat in silence for a few minutes and Dean gazed around them. There weren't many people outside considering the time of year, but even though it was getting rather brisk out, there were still a few couples and groups wandering around, riding bikes, and cuddling under trees. Dean felt a small rush of envy run through him as he watched them being happy. 

He'd been feeling rather lonely lately. He'd just broken up with his girlfriend of over a year, Lisa. He missed the comfort of having someone to hold hands with, someone to kiss and cuddle and mess around with. 

"So, Dean," Castiel said, breaking the silence and interrupting Dean's train of thought. "Was there a reason you came and sat with me? Because I'd love to continue our game from a few nights ago, but Balthazar's using our room as a sex dungeon right now, so I thought it best to just sit outside for a bit."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah... I just thought you could use some company. And I like being outside when it's like this, there aren't many people around."

"Yes. I do enjoy the near silence. It is nice sitting out here and listening to the birds and the cars, and smelling the autumnal scents float around. I do enjoy this weather," Castiel finished, smiling happily and breathing deeply. Dean found it endearing that Castiel didn't let the fact that he couldn't see stop him from being happy in his environment. He found beauty in other places, even if describing that beauty sounded a bit pretentious.

Dean turned around and scooted to sit next to Castiel and looked at his book. The pages were totally white, but Dean could see tiny bumps all over them. He reached over and ran his fingers along some of them, then watched as Castiel smiled. Dean knew that the other boy could feel his presence, even if he couldn't see him.

"Would you like me to teach you some braille?" Castiel asked. Dean smiled.

"Yeah, definitely."

Castiel closed his fingers around Dean's hand, and guided his index finger to the top of the page to the first line.

"See, each character has six little indentations, and each letter has a different set of bumps to fill some of those indentations. Like this letter-" he guided Dean's hand across a letter, one bump in the top left corner and five indentations below and to the right of it. "-is an 'A'. And the one next to it-" three bumps in a vertical line next to three indentations in a vertical line "-is an 'L'. The word it's spelling out-" he dragged Dean's hand across several more bumps and indentations, Dean following with his eyes. "-is 'aluminum'. This is a chemistry text book."

Dean gazed at the page and wondered how on earth Castiel could remember that, it seemed utterly impossible.

"That's... Really confusing," Dean laughed nervously. Castiel chuckled.

"It's not for me. I'm used to it. I suppose it's better to be born blind and live without vision for your entire life than it would be if you suddenly couldn't see anymore and had to completely change the way you lived your life."

Dean smiled. "Can't miss something you never had."

They sat on the blanket for an hour or so, Castiel trying to teach Dean how to read braille and experience life without sight. He told Dean to close his eyes, and just listen to the birds in the trees and the sounds and smells around him. Dean had a new appreciation for sight when he opened his eyes again, because the things he'd experienced with his eyes shut became twice as beautiful when he could see again.

Similarly, Dean spent some time describing their surroundings so Castiel could try and visualize what they looked like. They sat side by side, legs pressed against each other, for a long time, and Dean was beginning to grow quite fond of Castiel. He liked the way the corners of Castiel's mouth turned up as he talked about the trees and the leaves and the birds. He tried to describe color, but he had no idea where to start. Castiel would laugh whenever Dean was at a loss as to how to explain something, and that laugh made the hairs on Dean's neck stand up. 

"So... The sky is usually blue, but it looks kind of grey right now... Okay so like... Blue is kind of like..." Dean was a bit stumped as to what scents or feelings he could associate with the color of the sky. "Okay, well dark blue looks like... The way sadness feels. Does that make sense?" Castiel nodded, and Dean smiled. "Good. And uh... Lighter blue looks the way... Well, to me it looks kind of like the way a warm summer day feels... Like the beach and the ocean and stuff." Castiel nodded again and smiled at Dean's words.

"You're better at descriptions than you seem to think, Dean." 

Dean grinned wider. "Thanks, Castiel. Anyway, the grey is like... It's dull and ordinary and reminds me of like when your entire body is warm except for like your toes or your nose or something. Like it has the potential to be a comforting color, but it's just kind of... Absent." 

And he went on and on.

Soon after, however, it began to get dark, and, though that didn't much affect Castiel, Dean decided they would be more comfortable inside. He helped Castiel gather up his things and put them in his backpack, then the two of them headed in the direction of their dormitory. As they walked, Castiel tapped his walking stick along the pavement, and slipped his arm under Dean's so they could link elbows. If it were any other situation, Dean thought, that would have been weird and Dean would have shoved him away. But it was kind of cool knowing that he was helping Castiel navigate around the courtyard- it meant that he trusted him.

They made it back to Dean's room, and Dean was surprised to find himself relieved that Benny wasn't there. For all intents and purposes, it shouldn't have mattered whether Benny was there or not.... But he was glad that he and Castiel had some time alone.

"So... Yeah, this is my room...N-not that you can... See it..." Dean said nervously, guiding Castiel to the comfy chair in the corner. Castiel laughed.

"Don't worry about offending me, Dean, you won't. I'm not going to get offended unless you do it on purpose."

Dean laughed and let himself relax. He was thrilled that Castiel was so easy to talk to, so easy to be friends with. He started to wonder if this was because Castiel had never seen what anyone looked like, so he wouldn't be able to judge anyone based on their looks, whether he wanted to or not. It also occurred to Dean that it didn't matter to Castiel what he- or anyone- looked like, it only mattered how he acted and what he said. This took the pressure of making a good first impression and threw it down the garbage disposal.

Dean made himself comfortable on his bed, and he and Castiel sat together and talked for several hours. Their discussions were easy. They came naturally. Dean really enjoyed it, and it made him forget about his poor grades in Ancient Greek.

-

Dean and Castiel began spending every day together. Dean would go over to Castiel's room every morning, and the two would walk together to the dining hall for breakfast, linked at the elbows, Castiel swinging his walking stick around in front of him. Dean would have him play Guess The Food, which he was, unsurprisingly, very good at, but when they tried to switch roles and Castiel tried to put anonymous food into Dean's mouth while Dean had his eyes shut, it ended in Dean getting an egg yolk up his nose. Laughing, Dean cleaned himself up, and continued feeding Castiel, not realizing how strange they might have looked to passerby.

Then they'd part ways and go to their first lectures, both at 10:00. After their classes, they'd meet up again and sit in the courtyard; quizzing each other on the material from their lessons; Dean describing their surroundings, trying to make Castiel understand what it looked like; Castiel trying to teach Dean braille, and Dean getting frustrated with himself and having to stop and stare at the ground for several minutes... They had fun together.

But Dean was starting to think that, maybe, their innocent friendship was turning into something more.

There was something about being with Castiel that he hadn't felt since his time with Lisa. And before Lisa, he'd only felt it once before, with his high school girlfriend, Cassie. He could never figure out the feeling, he only knew he was feeling it when he felt it. It was warm and fuzzy and tingly and it gave him goosebumps. He was addicted to it- he never wanted to stop feeling it.

It started as just little things, like their hands brushing together when they linked elbows, or Castiel touching Dean's face to try and figure out some shape to it. But soon, this feeling grew stronger and more prominent, and Dean began deliberately sitting closer to Castiel and finding excuses to touch Castiel's arm or leg. The best part of all this was that Castiel wasn't only perfectly okay with Dean's advances, he generally reciprocated them. If Dean touched his arm, he'd touch Dean's. If Dean sat close to him, he'd slide in closer.

One day, while they were walking outside in the courtyard in the bliss of mid-December, while most people had already gone home for the holidays, Castiel asked Dean to tell him what the snow looked like.

"Well, it's white, usually, and it's really wet and cold. That's it, really," Dean said, as they strolled along the abandoned path, both of them bundled up in several layers and cuddling closely together.

"I already knew it was cold and wet, Dean, I can feel it. I want to know what it looks like. I want to know how you see it. Describe it like you described the sky."

Ah. He wanted to know how the snow made him feel. Dean smiled and he tightened his grip around Castiel's arm.

"Alright, Castiel... The snow is... It's beautiful. It's like this brand new and fresh... Thing... That just falls from the sky and covers everything. Whenever it snows, I like to look out the window and see the snow glowing under the reflection of the street lamp. It lights up the whole world outside, and it just kind... It makes everything less... Scary." Dean had never really thought about snow in so much depth before, but he'd been doing a lot of in-depth thinking since he met Castiel. Castiel smiled at his words, and Dean felt butterflies in his stomach when he watched Castiel's cheeks turn a bright rosy red.

"You're very poetic, Dean. I wouldn't expect that from someone who knows more about Metallica than he does about his country's Constitution."

Dean smiled at Castiel, and was suddenly very glad that Castiel couldn't see him. He felt a bit stupid, like he was some love-struck puppy.

"Metallica is poetry, thank you very much," Dean said defiantly, making Castiel laugh.

"If you say so. Speaking of music, I just learned a new song... Do you want to hear it?"

Dean's stomach flipped. He loved hearing Castiel play, it was his favorite thing about him. "Absolutely," he said, and he turned them around to walk the other way, back toward the dorms.

They stomped in the door, shook the slush from their boots, and made their way down the hallway to Castiel's dorm. Castiel unlocked the door, pushed it open, and the two stepped inside, pleased to learn that the room was completely devoid Balthazar and his sex companions.

Castiel removed his trench coat and scarf and hung them on the coat rack. Dean mimicked with his own coat and gloves, then made himself comfortable on Castiel's bed, as he usually did when they played their little game.

Castiel sat down at the piano, then swiveled around in the stool to face Dean.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, man, go for it."

Castiel spun around again and cracked his knuckles before adjusting his finger placement on the piano. Dean closed his eyes and leaned his head against the wall as the gentle notes rang out from the piano, making his heart sing.

Then Castiel began to sing.

_"Carry on, my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest... Don't you cry no more..."_

Dean recognized the song and knew it was classic rock, but Castiel was singing it like a lullaby. And it was breathtaking. Every note, every chord, every sound issuing from both the piano and from Castiel's throat was perfect and gorgeous, and Dean felt like he was sitting on a cloud. He'd never realized how much he loved this song.

_"Once I rose above the noise and confusion... Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion... I was soaring ever higher... But I flew too high..."_

This song made him think about his brother. It made him think about his mother and his father and his uncle Bobby. It made him think of his childhood friends, Jo and Ash, and it made him think of his first kiss. Pretty soon, Dean was tearing up, listening to the delicate notes and the undeniable wisdom Cas had when it came to picking the songs he knew Dean would love.

_"Though my eyes could see, I still was a blind man... Though my mind could think, I still was a mad man... I hear the voices when I'm dreaming... I can hear them say..."_

Ignoring the obvious irony in Castiel singing the beginning of that line, Dean smiled to himself as tears containing happy memories of his family and friends slipped down his cheeks. He continued smiling as he remembered the emotions he had felt when he first fell in love with Cassie... Then with Lisa... He remembered the emotions he had felt when the relationships he'd had with those girls had ended. He remembered feeling his heart break. He remembered spending months sewing it back together again. He remembered everything. He _felt_ everything.

_"Carry on, my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest... Don't you cry no more..."_

Suddenly, Dean realized he was no longer sat on the bed, but stood in the middle of the room, behind and just to the left of Castiel. He didn't really know why he was doing what he was doing, but he felt his feet step forward and he approached the piano slowly, still listening to Castiel's incredible talent.

_"Masquerading as a man with a reason, my charade is the event of the season. And if I claim to be a wise man, well... It surely means that I don't know."_

Soon, he was directly next to Castiel, staring at his expert hands move along the ivory keys. He gently reached down and touched his hand to Castiel's shoulder, and he felt Castiel take a deep breath- but he didn't stop playing.

_"On a stormy sea of moving emotion... Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean... I set a course for winter fortune... I can hear the voices say..."_

_"Carry on my wayward son,"_ Dean sang along with Castiel. Castiel's face lit up with excitement upon hearing Dean's voice, which made Dean feel a massive jolt in his heart, as though he'd just had a lightning bolt run through him. _"There'll be peace when you are done... Lay your weary head to rest... Don't you cry no more."_

Castiel ended the song on a long, ringing note, which was soon followed by a long silence between the two boys. Dean didn't feel at all awkward- he felt peaceful. He felt happy.

He felt that thing he felt.

He ran his fingers down Castiel's arm to his hand and pulled him to his feet. He twirled him around and put his free hand on Castiel's lower back. Castiel responded by locking their fingers together with one hand, and feeling his way up Dean's chest to place the other hand on his shoulder. Dean pulled him in closer so their hips were almost touching, and the two swayed in silence, both smiling stupidly and enjoying the other's presence.

"I love that song," Dean mumbled quietly. He was pleasantly surprised when Castiel reacted by unlocking their fingers to instead wrap both arms around Dean's neck and resting his head on Dean's chest.

"So do I," Castiel answered softly. The hairs on Dean's neck stuck up again and he tightened his grip around Castiel's waist.

The silence was magical to Dean. He closed his eyes and made an effort to keep his breathing steady. He hugged Castiel tighter and felt another tear slip down his face. He took a deep, shuddery breath, and suddenly realized that he was actually crying. Castiel must have realized this as well, as he pulled back and dragged his hands up Dean's chest and neck to his face to hold it still.

"Are you alright, Dean?" He asked, wiping the moisture away with his thumbs. Dean smiled brightly at him, then remembered he couldn't see. He had to show him just how alright he was.

Dean took Castiel's hands in his own and squeezed them tightly. "Castiel... I'm awesome."

Castiel's wide and bright smile was what caused Dean's next action. He leaned forward slowly, then moved one hand up to Castiel's face, so the other would know what was about to happen.

"I'm really awesome," he whispered when he was only inches from Castiel's mouth.

And then they were kissing. It took him months, but they were finally kissing. Castiel's lips were warm and plump and tasted a bit like the pie they'd had for desert. His hands were on Dean's back, holding himself steady as Dean kissed him heavily and passionately. Very slowly, they pulled apart, and Dean pressed their foreheads together. He let out a small laugh between breaths, and he felt happier than he'd felt in months.

And he certainly didn't give a shit about his grade in Ancient Greek anymore.

 


End file.
